


Therapy

by Shatterpath



Category: Bionic Woman (2007)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-07
Updated: 2008-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-26 03:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My prompt was: 'Ruth knows it's more than unethical, but nothing else in therapy is working.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> How I adore these two!  
> Date: 12-7-08  
> Word Count: 1037  
> Warnings: Girls with girls, obviously.  
> Disclaimer: Not mine, DUH. If it had been mine, the show would not have gone retarded and committed suicide.
> 
> For the 2008 Finish It All Off Ficathon.  
> Author's note: I made a small modification to my actual prompt by changing from third person to first person to fit my style.

I know it's more than unethical, but nothing else in therapy is working. Besides, the girl is irresistible and doesn't she just know it? We've been playing this mental game of push and pull now for months and my desperation finally got the better of me.

Now, I don't like being manipulated. At all. Probably even less than your average control freak. But I think much of that comes from the nature of the job. I know my role; I know everybody else's role.

Except Jamie.

Over time, she has changed my behavior to suit her far more than the other way around. Yes, it's aggravating and manipulative, but it also appears to have started working. The thawing started when her stubborn streak finally made me cave in and I found myself at a local deli, having lunch with her. Over chicken wraps and fresh, hot gourmet coffee, Jamie finally started to open up and I was hooked.

That hasn't really changed ever since.

In thanks for my compliance, there was a fresh croissant, still faintly warm, waiting on my desk the next morning. Jamie was already long gone, after some techno-terrorist in Nebraska, of all the unlikely places.

For four days, my life returns to normal.

Then Jamie is back, battered and annoyed and as wound up as a rabbit on methamphetamines. For hours and hours she's in the gym area, pounding unmercifully at the equipment, denting and breaking nearly everything in her path. Jae just watches quietly in his Zen-like way, but I've known him long enough to sense his concern, boiling beneath the surface.

He's worried. We're all worried.

So I step out of my comfort zone again, drawing on the memory of a passing comment she made, dashing out to spend a wad of cash for her smile. In the locker room, my greeting is deliberately nonchalant and she essentially grunts in acknowledgement. Schooling myself to patience, I try to tease her into relaxing, pulling out the DVD box set and waving it like a carrot before a stubborn donkey.

It takes a minute to grow out of her scowl, but the smile finally warms her face and she chuckles, shaking her head. "Tell you what, Ruth. You bring that with you and I'll cook. Deal?"

"Deal."

Little do I know what I am getting myself into…

++++

After three hours of Grey's Anatomy and a surprisingly delicious feast of fancy pasta and salad, I'm half asleep and completely relaxed. The rich red wine certainly doesn't hurt any.

When I first arrived at the loft the Sommers girls share, Becca was wary of me, for all the world reminding me of a nervous cat. But as the night has progressed, she seems to have decided that I'm okay and has reverted back to being a teenager. The sisters are a riot, bantering back and forth like an amateur comedy team. As if I needed further proof at being included in the fun, they pull out this odd trivia game that entails snippets of movies that we have to answer questions about. Becca's impressed and horrified at my knowledge of the old classics that she is oblivious of and I narrowly beat out both of them.

"I'm going to have to keep an eye out on you, mystery woman," the teen mockingly warns me, making Jamie chortle almost dirtily. "Where'd you learn about those old movies anyway? Because you sure aren't old enough to have seen them first run." Again, Jamie's laughter peels out of the kitchen and I sigh.

"Thank you, I think. My mother loved them. She always liked things of 'elegant simplicity' as she would always say."

Any small insult from the teen's bluntness evaporates when Jamie appears to hand me a generous sundae soaked in caramel and hot fudge. With a happy squeal, Becca attacks hers while Jamie settles to the couch with a teasing smile. Awed at the size and complexity of the thing, I eye it, then her. "How the hell can you eat like this?"

Both of them laugh, again with that almost dirty edge, grinning around icy spoons. "We're growing girls," Jamie chortles, dexterously arching a finely-shaped leg over my lap, narrowly missing my ice cream monstrosity, to poke Becca in the ribs with her toes.

Jumping and squealing, Becca sloshes the goo onto her hand, whining, "Hey, ice cream abuse!"

Once I've made myself a little queasy on dairy and sugar, I rescue the glass dishes as Becca starts to fade into exhaustion. Wishing me a sleepy 'good night', she toddles off into the depths of the loft and I gather up some of the carnage of our girl's night out to carry them into the kitchen.

Grinning over her shoulder where she's washing up, Jamie seems a completely different creature in these ordinary surroundings. It makes me admire her all the more at how she's holding up in her bizarre new life. "You were actually a hell of a lot of fun, Ruth," she marvels and I can't seem to help the shy, warm smile I feel tug at my mouth.

When it comes, it's a shock that I'm somehow fully expecting.

Wiping her hands on a towel, Jamie strides over, only hesitating for a moment before leaning in and planting a warm kiss on my smile. "I like this sort of therapy much better."

The laughter that bubbles up, chasing away any surprise at this wild child, is not at all feigned. "I see that. Anything else I can help you with, troublemaker?"

Something hot and raw and vulnerable flares in her clear blue eyes, the left one faintly edged in bionic acid green. Whispering a faint affirmation, she ducks in again, hesitating close enough for our breath to mingle before I throw caution to the winds and meet her halfway.

Turns out that this altered creature, as much machine and meat now, is still all woman. For whatever odd reason, she needs me and I will not let her suffer alone any longer. As I worship over her gorgeous body and soothe her troubled mind, I know that this sort of therapy may indeed be unethical…

But I can hardly care less.


End file.
